We Hold These Truths
by Damsell
Summary: In the midst of the American Revolution, Isabella Swan, daughter of Brigadier General Charles Swan of the Continental Army, is caught up in a world of factions and turmoil. When she meets the man that she thinks she can finally love, a hot headed Red Coat named Edward, will their convictions keep them apart despite the war raging within their hearts? A/H, Canon Couples
1. Chapter 1

"Papa! Papa! You forgot your hat!" Bella called out as she ran down the front steps of the house, waving her father's tricorne hat as she held her skirts and petticoats out of the way with the other, despite this, she still almost tripped over her own feet as she rushed to her father, who had paused in the act of mounting his horse.

"Slowly there, Bella. We wouldn't want you falling again," Charles said with amusement as he made his way towards his daughter, taking the hat from her hands. "Thank you, child. I'd forget my own head if it wasn't attached to my body."

Bella forced a smile as she watched her father put the hat on his head, covering his mussed up salt and pepper colored hair, but there was no way she could fool her father. Seeing the look in her eyes he sighed. "There, there now, Bella. I will be home before you know it."

Blinking back her tears she nodded and said, "Yes, papa." She was frightened, but she was doing her best not to show it. With her father gone and her brother away at school, she knew it was up to her to handle most of the duties of the farm. But, that wasn't what frightened her. What frightened her were the whispers she heard between her parents when they thought she had gone to bed. She knew that they were worried about the winds of change that were blowing through the colonies.

Her father was a quiet man and he tried to live life in peace on his farm with his family, but the atrocities happening everyday around them started to creep into their everyday lives. She could still remember four short years before when the Horrid Massacre had happened. Her own friend Alice's cousin, poor Sammy Maverick, had been struck and killed when the King's own men had shot into a crowd. Sammy had been murdered along with four others and over six had been wounded. Poor Sammy had only been seventeen at the time, the same age she was now. Her father had been incensed at the incident and it was the first time she had ever heard him express any shame towards his past as an officer with His Majesty's Royal Army. Bella had only been thirteen when her father stopped speaking of his ties to the military with a sense of pride. A lot of things had changed about her father after that day. She remembered her father's heated discussions with Mr. Adams, the neighbor who had defended the soldiers involved in the Massacre. It was one of the few times she had heard her father raise his voice. He and Mr. Adams were getting along well now though. In fact, the two of them were taking the trip to Philadelphia together along with Mr. Cushing, a local lawyer and merchant, and two others. While her father claimed that he did not want to court trouble, he also said that a man had to stand for what was right and that something had to be done to stand up in opposition of Intolerable Acts instituted by the British Parliament.

Yes, there was trouble brewing, and her family was right in the middle of it.

"You be good and help your mother," Charles said before he kissed her forehead. In that brief moment, she could sense that he was frightened too, but by the time he turned and mounted his horse he was smiling at her from under his mustache. "I'll see you soon!"

Nodding again, Bella lifted her hand in a small wave and watched as her father rode off in the direction of the Adams' farm.

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It had been over a week since her father had left to Pennsylvania and Bella was already tired. In addition to her regular chores around the farm, she now had more work due to her father's absence as well as the fact that her mother was continuing to sulk. She understood that her mother was worried and that she missed papa, but it was a bit ridiculous that she couldn't help more around the farm and house, insisting on staying in her room.

As she hauled the last of the root vegetables she had been able to pick through the back door into the kitchen she sighed when she noticed that dinner wasn't ready despite the fact that her mother had promised to cook so she could do what needed to be done all day outside.

"Mama!" her voice rang out through the house as she hung her outdoor apron on the pegs by the door.

"Goodness, child, why are you yelling? I was just in the parlor," said Renee as she walked into the kitchen, fiddling with one of her earbobs.

Bella was surprised that her mother had not only finally left her room, but that she was dressed in one of her nicer dresses with some of her finer jewelry. "I apologize, mother, I…I just thought you were going to make dinner."

"Oh! Yes, well, we've been invited over to the Brandon's. Didn't I tell you? You really should get ready, we're expected within the hour," Renee replied with a smile before she drifted out of the room again.

Shaking her head Bella put some water to heat on the stove so she could clean up a bit. It wouldn't do to show up at the Brandon's smelling like manure and soil. Alice might be her best friend, but the fact that she was the only girl in a family of four brothers combined with the fact that her family was a bit better off than Bella's meant that Alice had very little concept of what it was to do chores.

She took the heated water with her to her bedroom and put it in her wash basin, cleaning up as much as she could considering there was not time for a full bath. She hurried to get ready, doing the best she could in the short amount of time they had. It came as no surprise to her that her mother had forgotten to tell her about the dinner. If it weren't for the fact that the invitation had finally gotten her mother out of her bedroom and that she was going to be spending time with Alice, she would have preferred to just have fallen into bed with no supper.

Slipping into a clean petticoat and corset followed by one of her nicer gowns, she styled her hair simply before heading downstairs, happy to find that her mother had had asked one of the farmhands to pull the wagon around to the front of the house.

As she climbed into the wagon, taking the reins, she hoped they would have a good evening.

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Dinner had been the usual boisterous affair that it was at the Brandon's. Renee had failed to inform Bella that all four of Alice's brothers were going to be in attendance, and all the Brandons together made for a loud, animated bunch. Bella, never the one that liked to be the center of attention, had listened as the conversation at the dinner table ranged from the going-ons of some of Boston's finest families to how the boys were doing at the various professions or school. One thing that was never discussed was politics. Mr. Brandon did not approve of women being included in such discussions.

As the evening progressed and they moved into the parlor, and at one point when Alice went up to her room to get some fabric swatches to show Bella, Alice's oldest brother, Garrett, came to sit by her. Of all of Alice's brothers, Garrett was the one that Bella knew the least. He was a year older than her own brother and had usually been away at school whenever she visited Alice.

"Let me guess," Garrett said with a kind smile as he settled next to Bella, "Alice has gone to get some sketches or fabric to show you and get your opinion."

Bella smiled and nodded. "She tries to get my opinion every time we get the chance to visit. Unfortunately, I don't think Mrs. Brandon shares her proclivity towards keeping up with the latest fashions."

Garrett chuckled. "No, mother is not the type, but we all still try to indulge her since she is the baby of the family…and the only girl, but there is only so much advice a brother can give about dresses."

"I don't think I'm that much help either," Bella confessed, "I think she has her mind made up before she even asks my opinion."

Garrett laughed. "You're probably right." He smiled bright at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "You have both grown up so much."

His words caused Bella to blush and she let her eyes wander about the room, noticing her mother and Mrs. Brandon looking their way and talking quietly across the room. Something about the way that they were looking at her and Garrett made her feel a bit unsettled and she turned her head, realizing that Garrett had said something.

"Pardon me?" she asked, having missed what he had said.

"I was wondering if I might come by the farm tomorrow," Garrett said with a smile.

"Oh, well, I'm afraid you mustn't have heard. Papa is away in Philadelphia on business…," she stopped when Garrett chuckled softly and shook his head. "Forgive me," he said, "I should have been clearer concerning my intentions. I meant to ask if I may come to your home tomorrow…to call on you."

* * *

**A/N: **This is just a new story I'm trying out. I'm trying to fit in the history the best and most accurate way I can. Please let me know what you think! The more reviews I receive the more motivated I'll be to continue!


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few months, Garrett came to call on Bella countless times. To say that their mothers and Alice were thrilled would have been a severe understatement.

While Bella didn't consider herself to be shy, she also wasn't used to being the main object of anyone's attention or affection. At first, things had been a bit awkward between Garrett and her, but as he visited more and she spent more time with him, getting to know him, she became more uninhibited and realized that she liked being in his company. He wasn't like his father, who thought that women should be cossetted and kept in their place. He was more like her father, who encouraged her to share her opinions and ideas about how things were changing in the colonies.

Garrett had a bright mind, and though he had always wanted to study law, as the eldest of the Brandons, he was first in line to take over his father's business as a merchant. The family was having difficulties due to the Intolerable Acts and it was with the upmost secrecy that Garrett confessed to her that he had been part of the so called Boston Tea Party. Garrett knew that his father would not approve of his "acting like a hooligan," but he'd done it as a small way to protest and agreed with Samuel Adams' assessment that it was not the act of a lawless mob, but a principled protest where he and others had defended their constitutional rights.

Bella enjoyed the fact that Garrett shared everything with her, and she did the same. She told him how proud she was of him and her father for standing up for what was right, but that didn't stop her from worrying. Her father came home from his meeting with the congress in Philadelphia admitting to her that he felt that war wasn't necessarily an inevitability, but that things seemed to be heading in that direction, and Garrett agreed.

When Garrett began to keep company with some of the rebellion's ringleaders, she began to worry, but he always silenced those worries with a quick kiss and an assurance that he knew what he was doing. She did not tell her father about Garrett's actions, knowing that he would not approve. To that point Charles Swan had actually approved of Garrett Brandon courting his daughter, and Bella didn't want to risk that changing.

So she kept her silence, trying to believe in Garrett's reassurances that all was well. Those illusions were shattered in early April of 1775 when Garrett told her he was leaving to a nearby city to stay with some of his mother's cousins. She knew he was holding back something from her by the nervous look in his eyes, but she did not press him. What was even more telling than the look in his eyes was the deep, passionate kiss he gave her behind her house before he embarked on his journey. Though they had traded kisses before, none had been like this.

As he looked down at her breathlessly afterwards he whispered, "How I love thee." It was the first time he had spoken those words to her and she blushed brightly as she whispered, "As I love thee, Garrett Brandon." He had smiled softly at her words and kissed her again, once again showing her a passion that she had never before encountered as he pulled her small body against his own. When he broke the kiss he looked at her and whispered, "I am going to marry thee." She had blushed at his words and she saw the worry in his eyes dissipate and replaced by the usual mirth that was there. "Just do not tell thy father. I have yet to ask him for your hand." Placing one last, soft kiss on her lips he smiled and stepped back, setting his hat on his head as he backed away from her. "I will return before you even have to miss me, my Isabella." With a wink and a jovial grin, he left her there, worried, but thinking of the future that they would have together.

Alas, it was not to be.

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The Swan household had been in a state of turmoil since the day that Garrett left. Her father had been coming and going all hours of the day. Word was spreading that a battle was brewing and he was trying to stay out of it as much as he could while still trying to keep abreast of the situation. Her mother was in a constant state of nerves that did not help the situation either and she was constantly bemoaning the fate of Emmett, Bella's older brother who was living on campus while studying at Harvard which was not too far away near Concord, and she also spoke of Garrett's fate.

It didn't take long for Bella's father to discover Garrett's involvement, but instead of being upset at the fact that her suitor had kept his involvement in the militia a secret, he was more concerned for the young man's welfare, especially when he saw the shadow of fear in his daughter's eyes.

By the 20th of April, the day after the first shot of the Revolutionary War was fired, Bella knew that her life had changed forever.

Despite the fit that her mother threw, once Charles Swan had received word of what had occurred in Concord and Lexington, he was off to check on the aftermath of the battle himself. Renee Swan was beside herself the whole time that he was gone crying and yelling that her husband was a fool for leaving them alone, but Bella barely paid her any mind as she kept an eye out for her father's return. As she alternated between standing by the front window and the garden in front of the house, she waited for her father to ride up, perhaps dragging Garrett back home behind. She knew her father would make Garrett come back and go home to let both Bella and his family know that he was all right. They would pass the Swan residence before continuing onto the Brandon household which was further down the road, but before he went home, at least she could be assured that Garrett was safe and sound.

Her foresight was correct, but not in the way she had anticipated or hoped. Her father did bring Garrett back, dragging him behind him, but Garrett was not astride his mount, instead he lay bloodied and dead at the back of a wagon that her father was guiding.

Before Charles was even close enough for Bella to see what was in the back of the wagon he led, she noticed his red eyes and the look of anguish on his face. Rushing past the gate that separated the small garden she was standing in from the road, she rushed up to the back of the wagon, reaching it before her father could dismount and stop her.

The scream she let out was one of pure agony as she saw her beloved's body lying there, covered in dirt, soot, and blood. Climbing onto the wagon without a second thought she somehow lifted Garrett's dead weight to her chest, clinging to him as she let out a sob.

By this time Charles had dismounted and stood behind the wagon, tears streaming down his face as he watched his daughter rock the corpse of the man she loved back and forth as she whispered between sobs and tears, "You loved me. You are supposed to marry me."

But, of course, there was no response as the heavy body lay limp in her embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

Bella didn't remember the days or even the months following Garrett's death, at least not most of it. She remembered feel the cool April rain soaking through her dress as she stood by while they lowered Garrett's casket into the ground. She remembered her mother and father pleading with her as she sat in the rocking chair in her room, looking out the window down the winding dirt road, as if she were waiting for Garrett to come riding up at any moment. She remembered some of their words, "He wouldn't want this." No, but he hadn't wanted to die either. "Move on…live your life." How could she move on and live with a shattered heart? For the first time in her life, her mother really took care of her and her father didn't see her as a pillar of strength with an iron core, but she noticed neither of these things.

The thing she remembered most clearly in the months after Garrett's death was Alice's visits. Unlike her parents, who tried to get her to talk and go back to her "normal" routine, Alice didn't ask her or force her to do anything. In fact, for the first couple of visits, Alice wouldn't say a word. She would just sit quietly next to Bella and hold her hand, both young women lost in the grief of losing someone that they loved so dearly.

Little by little though, Alice began to talk to Bella, telling her tales of Garrett growing up. By now, Bella had heard many of these stories, but it was interesting to hear them from a sister's point of view. Somehow it made her feel closer to Garrett. It also helped her to realize his failings. He had not been perfect, but, she reasoned, he had been perfect for her.

As time passed and the stories turned from childhood memories to those of adulthood, Alice began to share things that Garrett had not shared with Bella before his death. Bella had known that he had been passionate about the fight against the tyranny of the crown, but she didn't really know the extent of his involvement in the militias' affairs. Alice told Bella that he hadn't shared because he didn't want to worry her any more than he already had.

That was when the first seed of doubt had planted itself in Bella's head. Had he not thought of her as being strong enough? And, by letting life simply pass her by the way she had, wasn't she proving him right?

After that, she began to live a little day-by-day. She wordlessly started to take up her chores on the farm again. Her parents were over attentive when they saw her moving out and about once more, but they were also treating her like a fragile piece of porcelain that was barely holding together despite the cracks that were showing.

But, despite the fact that she felt her heart was utterly shattered, that didn't mean that she wasn't strong in mind and spirit. She was different, yes, more quiet and somber perhaps, but she was still Isabella Marie Swan, daughter of Charles Nathan Swan, military officer and representative from Massachusetts to the Continental Congress. She knew she had that iron core that her father spoke about.

And, so, she got better, little-by-little, but like severe wounds left scars behind, the death of her fiancé had left an undeniable, visible mark on Bella Swan and she was no longer the same young girl.

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Bella had just finished hanging the clothes out on the clothesline to dry when she heard raised voices from near the barn. Setting her empty basket down on the back porch to the house she made her way around the side of the house in the direction of the barn, automatically recognizing the voice of her father. It took her a bit longer to identify Mr. Brandon's voice. It took her even longer to comprehend what they were fighting about.

Her father's angry words drifted towards her as she came closer. "It is not a wasted effort, sir! The things we do will provide a better future for our children and our children's children!"

"It is still unabashed law breaking! We are all affected by what the crown does, but there are other avenues to make parliament and the king understand…," Mr. Brandon did not get to finish his words and Charles interrupted angrily.

"The rights of men trump the laws of men at times!"

"Would you have us fight a war then!" Mr. Brandon roared in reply.

Neither of the men noticed Bella standing nearby, growing paler and paler as they argued and grew red of face.

"I have fought wars! I have seen young men die for what they believed was right including your own son!" Charles exclaimed angrily as he stepped closer to Mr. Brandon.

"And, my son was a fool!" Mr. Brandon retorted heatedly.

Charles was about to pounce on the man when he heard Bella's voice cut through his rage.

"Stop! Stop both of you!" Her own pale skin was now tinged red with fury and angry tears streamed down her face.

Both men looked surprised then had the good sense to look abashed, though that expression did not last long on Mr. Brandon's face as he said, "Get thee inside girl, this is no business for you."

"You will not speak to my daughter in such a manner, Mr. Brandon," Charles said icily.

Before Mr. Brandon could say another word, Bella shook her head. "You have no right to speak of your son in that manner, Mr. Brandon." He opened his mouth to say something and held up her hand to stop him. "He was your son, but he was the man I intended to spend the rest of my life with." Glancing at her father she noticed his frown of worry as she spoke. She had become a quiet young lady and had probably spoken more in the last few seconds than she had all week, but more than that, she was speaking of Garrett, a topic that up until then had been taboo. "I will not deny that your son did foolish things, sir, but he was far from a fool. He did not speak to me much of his involvement and what he was doing, but he did tell me that his main concern was for you, for your family, for our future…" she said the last part more softly. Sighing she fidgeted a bit, smoothing down the front of her apron that lay over the black mourning dress she wore. Looking up, her large, tear filled brown eyes met Mr. Brandon's. His eyes were so much like Garrett's had been that it nearly stole her breath away. As she continued speaking, her voice shook with emotion. "Garrett was a good man, Mr. Brandon. He was a good man and you should be proud of that. While your political views may not be the same, he wanted nothing more than the best for you and your family. Please believe that."

Mr. Brandon had heard from his wife and Alice how torn up Bella had been about Garrett's death. Like his wife, he had approved of the match, thinking that Swan's only daughter would be a good wife to his son, but alas, that was never to be. Seeing the way that Bella spoke of his daughter, he could tell that the girl had loved his boy. Feeling slightly ashamed at speaking of his late sun in such an ill manner he sighed and looked at the ground, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head and simply said, "Good day to you both." With that he turned and walked back towards his horse.

Neither Charles nor Bella said anything for a moment as they watch Mr. Brandon ride away. Finally, Bella turned to retrieve the basket she had abandoned, but her father stopped her.

"Bella, darling girl, I am sorry you had to hear that."

She stopped and turned to look at him. "Do not trouble yourself, father." She was quiet a moment and then she asked quietly, "Has it come to that then? Is full out war really an inevitability?"

Charles sighed. "We have sent a petition to the King asking for peace, but I fear that the skirmishes we have seen till now are nothing compared to what is coming."

She swallowed and nodded. "You will be leaving us then?" Bella asked quietly.

He seemed to consider his reply, not wanting to lie to his daughter, but wanting to spare her the anxiety of possibly losing someone else she cared about. But, he had always been truthful with his daughter and he knew he should be even more so now that she was no longer a child. "Aye," was all he said as he looked down at the ground.

She stood there quietly and then she said, "Good."

He looked up, startled and saw the hurt and hatred there in her eyes. He knew that hatred stemmed from her loss, but it was something he never thought he would see in his child. "Kill as many redcoats as you can before you come home." And, with that, she turned and headed back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

"Edward! Edward, will you wait a moment!" a voice called through the crowd in the streets.

Lt. Lord Edward Anthony Masen II, 9th Earl of Evenson, merely smirked to himself and ignored the voice. He knew who it was all too well. There was no mistaking his closest friend, Jasper's, voice. Usually he would have been up to whatever misdeeds Lt. Jasper Whitlock had in mind, even if it did get them in trouble, but he knew very well that at the moment Jasper was not thinking of debauchery with colonial strumpets. No, he had seen his Aunt Esme cornering Jasper earlier. Edward had no doubt that she had some new English rose to throw his way. It didn't matter that he said he wasn't interested. At twenty-two she thought him ripe for the picking and was trying to help him settle down.

Edward knew that it was more about keeping him in the colonies than anything else. In all honesty, he did not care for America. The land and people were uncivilized, but his uncle, Carlisle, loved it here. Sir Carlisle Cullen had been a career military man that had left Great Britain when Edward had turned twenty only two years ago. He and his Aunt Esme, his mother's sister, had taken Edward in when his parents had passed away when he was twelve years of age. And, though his uncle was a father to him in all but name, he never understood why he cared so much for the colonies.

His uncle stated that it was the land of opportunities, where men could come and live out dreams. He had even uprooted his aunt and moved here over four years ago.

Edward saw it as a bug infested, uninhabitable place and he really did not understand the King's need to hold onto it. It really was of no value and the place seemed like more trouble than it was worth, though of course he would never say that out loud. He was here with his Regiment to fight off these idiot revolutionists. What belonged to the King, belonged to the King, and that was that. Edward was there to follow orders.

Of course, the fact that he was in the colonies made his aunt very happy. He knew that she saw him as a son and she was going to do everything in her power to keep him here, even if that meant throwing eligible young ladies of good stature in his path.

And, right now he was trying to keep out of Jasper Whitlock's path. Unfortunately, he was looking over his shoulder to make certain he had lost the bloke when he ran right into him.

"I know you heard me calling on you, Masen," Jasper said as he put a hand in the center of Edward's chest, stopping him from moving forward.

Edward stifled a sigh and feigned a confused look. "Whatever do you mean, Whitlock? I've been looking for you all over."

Jasper snorted. "That innocent routine might work on your aunt, but it does not work on me, m'lord."

Edward wrinkled his nose at the title. While he had inherited his father's title, little else had come with it other than responsibilities he didn't really want.

"Shush now, would you have me tarred and feathered! It's bad enough that when we wear regimentals we're looked at as if we are devils, proclaiming my title amongst these heathens will be the death of me!" Edward hissed.

Jasper merely snickered as they started to walk together. "I think it's more that you do not want the mothers here throwing their daughters in your path just as they did across the Atlantic."

Edward looked at him and scowled, but Jasper wasn't paying attention, instead, he was occupied looking over a young woman walking in the opposite direction. Edward rolled his eyes as Jasper gave the young woman a flirtatious smile and the girl giggled and scurried off.

"You know, I happen to find the female population here in Boston to be rather enticing myself," Jasper said as he turned back to Edward with a grin. "Who knows, you might find yourself a pretty little Yankee wife to take back to jolly old England."

Edward scoffed. "Could you imagine? The next Lady of Evenson a colonial strumpet! My father and mother would turn over in their graves!"

Jasper shrugged. "Would make your Aunt Esme happy, and she's as much a mother to you as Lady Elizabeth was."

Edward sighed. "And, here it comes. You were chasing me to tell me that my aunt has invited us to yet another one of her dinners with a number of beautiful, talented, pedigreed, innocent, _eligible_ young women will be held at her home this evening."

"Well, yes, but…Wait one moment! I thought you said you were looking for me and did not know I was following you!" Jasper said, pretending to be more incensed than he was.

"Yes, well, having seen my lovely Aunt Esme cornering you earlier, I figured what it was about and tried to make my escape," Edward said.

Jasper snorted, "You should know by now that Lady Esme is a formidable woman who I would not cross if my life depended on it. I daresay I am more in fear of her than your uncle!"

Edward couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yes, she doesn't dilly dally about. My uncle said she should have been the one to join the military."

"I completely concur," chuckled Jasper.

"Are you certain that you cannot tell my dear aunt that you simply could not find me?" Edward asked with a sigh.

Jasper feigned a look of horror. "And let that sweet woman down! I think not! No, we will both go back to our quarters and dress in our dashing uniforms. Tonight we will drink, be merry, and hopefully prove that those young ladies at your aunt and uncles are indeed talented and not as innocent as she perceives them to be!"

Edward shook his head. "You flirt with danger more than you should, my friend."

"I flirt with beautiful woman, Edward. It is not my fault that they bring danger along for the ride," Jasper said with a snicker.

Yes, Edward knew all about the danger that Jasper's indiscretions seemed to court. He still remembered the debacle with Lady Maria. She had claimed to be the daughter of a minor Spanish lord. It had almost ended in death when it was discovered that the lovely Spanish beauty was actually the Lord's _wife_. Edward had had to use his considerable influence, as well as a good amount of gold, to convince the man not to challenge Jasper to a duel.

Jasper was desolate afterwards and it was only when their regiment had been sent to the American colonies that he had begun to see his old friend come back to life. He was so relieved to see Jasper being his old self, that he only offered subtle warnings about his friend's behavior towards the fairer sex. Of course, he also knew that Jasper had learned his lesson. His friend would be careful with his activities with the ladies, and much more careful with his heart.

"Fine," Edward sighed, "I'll accompany you, but we will not stay as late as we did last time. Is that understood?"

"It's not my fault you got sloshed! Who knew your uncle could drink us both under the table?" Jasper said with a shake of his head.


End file.
